Hurricane Katherine
by FirstGirlOnTheMoon
Summary: If he had to be entirely honest, he always knew she was trouble. Rick contemplates what Kate is to him. Minor spoilers for Season 8, ep 1-4.
1. Chapter 1

If he had to be entirely honest, he always knew she was trouble. Anything that beautiful and majestic, and that wounded, was dangerous. He was reminded of a documentary on caged lion hunting he saw once. Backed against a fence, a trapped and wounded animal would fight tooth and nail for its life, friend or foe regardless. He pondered it for a moment. Did he somehow trap her with no means of escape?

Armed with arrogance and charm, he finally broke down her walls after years on the fringes of the friend zone. Ever the optimist, he believed that he could stick her broken pieces back together with unwavering faith, unconditional love and promises of "always".

But it seems he was wrong. Hurricane Katherine was such a destructive force, that nothing was left standing in her wake. He always thought of her previous lovers as lesser men. Now, he thought, perhaps they were smarter. Heeding the warnings and got to higher ground before the devastating winds and rain hit them head on. He now sees their courtship, engagement and year of wedded bliss for what it was: the eye of the storm.

He threw the last of the scotch down his throat and set the glass on the desk, resisting the urge to fling it at the wall. No, enough things have been broken in the name of the extraordinary KB. Instead, he contemplated his own wounds. The once self-assured millionaire mystery writer was now reduced to a pathetic puddle of despair and hopelessness. No amount of money or influential friends could keep him in one piece.

And yet, even though he now thought he saw her for what she was, he was still drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Richard Castle: Storm Chaser.

Just then, there's a faint knock on the door. Annoyed by the sudden interruption of his thoughts, he rises warily to go see who it is.

The open door reveals his wife. He'd like to say "in all her glory", but the woman before him was nothing like the confident, no nonsense detective she portrayed to the world. She looked worn down. Spent. And in her eyes he saw a mixture of fear and desperation.

Like so many years before, he asked, "Beckett, what do you want?" And like so many years before, she walked into his arms with false bravado. But this time, instead of kissing him, she sank into his chest with a sob. He held her for a long moment while she whispered apologies into his shoulder. And the she looked up at him and said, "You. I just want you."

He held her tighter for a while and when he finally let her go, she gave him a hopeful, beautiful smile.

A supernova smile that melted his heart just like the first time she blessed him with it. And then he knew. The storm has passed. The sun is breaking through the clouds. Now the clean-up can begin.


	2. Chapter 2

He had guessed that it wouldn't be easy, but never had he thought that having his wife back in his house and bed would be this hard. He lost count on how many nights he has spent wide awake, her body an arm's length away, back turned towards him. Her breathing was calm and it made him wonder if she shared his concerns. He thought about all the things that lay broken between them in that cold space on the sheet. All the things that they said, and everything they didn't. At the same time trying to minimize the damage and inflict more pain.

It's been weeks since her sudden return. Endless days of mundane cases at his PI office. Anything to keep him from crossing paths with anyone from the 12th. He avoided their mutual friends, not wanting them to be caught in the middle. And at the same time hoping she'll see the move as him handing her a support structure and someone to talk to. He had his mother and Alexis. She also made quiet compromises. Never staying at work later than necessary, sharing dinner duties and making small talk. They rehashed another conversation from before when halfway through a mostly quiet meal she suddenly spoke. "We can't just pick up where we left off, can we, as if nothing ever happened?" "No", he answered softly, sadly. **"** We'll get there. We'll find our way home."

He knew they had to start rebuilding. But Rick Castle was no handyman. He had no experience in rebuilding anything. He has never tried to repair a relationship before. Never even considered it. Arrogance and pride always made him walk away. Run, if he was truthful. This time, God help him, he wanted to try. He had no idea where to begin. And, he suspected, neither did she.

He read somewhere that communication is key. So that is where he started. Somehow she sensed his apprehension. Of course she did. It was a job requirement, occupational hazard. For two people who had found it easy to talk since they first met, they didn't really say much that was meaningful. Hell, it took them years to say what they were feeling. And even then everything was subtext and flirty banter. All of his previous attempts at talking things through devolved into tossing blame and saying things they didn't mean.

He sighs heavily, and with that, she turns on her back and feels for his hand under the blanket. In one small gesture, she attempts to bridge the physical and emotional divide between them. When she speaks, her words give him the hope he has been craving. "Castle, I can't imagine my life without you. And if that means that when things get difficult, and we have to figure them out, then I'm willing to figure them out. Assuming that you're willing to figure them out with me."

As if on que, the first rays of sunlight broke through the window to announce a new dawn.


End file.
